His Complacency
by Bernard Flapdoodle
Summary: "Will's a nice boy," came a voice that made Woody nearly jump out of his fabric. "He's been good to me from day one, and I'm sure it'll be no different for you." ... My own take on Woody's past, and then some.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews on my last post. Greatly appreciated; encouraged me to write more. And yet, who's bad at titles? *points at self* ME!  
**_

_**So far, this has become a two-shot, the second chapter I'll hold off on posting right away, but I might continue it past that point... possibly including a re-write of "The End of William Davis" to fit in a bit better with this story. How's that sound? All right? ALL RIGHT!**_

_**It's not as epic or eventful as a few other fics I read after writing this, but oh well. Here you go; read and enjoy.**_

Frank Davis held the metal box in his hands awkwardly, rubbing its slightly rusted corners. He remembered the fire that consumed his brother's house, but this was one of the few things that survived. It took him a long time before he decided to break the lock out of curiosity to see what his brother had left him. Inside he found a roll of money, some miscellaneous items, and a second box. He recognized it instantly from his brother's collection. An original Sheriff Woody doll from a show they used to watch as kids, _Woody's Roundup_. It was hard to believe that was already over a decade ago. His brother had the other toys from the collection, but for some reason, only Woody had been set aside and preserved. Under the box was a note on top of some more paper, and Frank pulled it out to read it.

_Dear Frank,_

_If you're reading this, then I'm probably dead. Sorry about that. In here's a few things of mine that I thought you'd like. Like my savings! I'm kidding, you know I love you. There's an amethyst in here, I know you like shiny things. And a conker, remember when we collected those before we moved to America? There's some other stuff in here, too, but I don't have to list everything for you._

_You get my car, by the way. Laura has her own._

_-Jim_

_PS: I know you liked Woody best, and I found one still in the box. Maybe Will would like him, too?_

Frank chuckled softly at his late brother's humour, looking back at the old box. Woody had been posed in the box to hold one hand up as though he were waving. A small pang of sadness and nostalgia hit him; the show was no longer on television and the merchandise was no longer being sold to his knowledge. Plus, now his brother's collection was destroyed in the fire. Still, 7-year-old William liked old western films, so he would probably enjoy a cowboy doll.

It was like waking up for the first time. He knew what he was, and what he was made to represent, but there were no solid memories of events that he was aware of. Being pulled out of the box, as soon as he had been freed from the cardboard, he could see bright white light. When that faded, his slightly blurred vision settled into a pair of shining blue eyes and blonde curls around a young boy's face, a toothy grin and an older man behind him. The boy's hands were wrapped around his torso, turning him at all angles to examine him. He felt a slight tug at his back that invisibly startled him, feeling something inside of him move, and he felt a slight shock of self-awareness throughout his body, cotton and wood, as a box within his chest announced, "You're my favourite deputy!"

The boy smiled widely, hugged his father for the gift, and held onto him for the rest of the day. He could kind of see, dully feel the pressure against his fabric of being touched, and he could feel vibrations, but he could hear almost nothing outside of his body.

The next morning, William was off at school, and Woody was left on the boy's bed, laying on his side. He could swear his fingers were still tingling from that first draw of his pull string. His plush body shivered against all logic, and his wooden, painted face twitched. Then, his eyes closed, inexplicably. He blinked. His vision began to clear. Shakily, he pulled his arms toward his body, pushing himself up off of the bed. Another triumph for a toy's awakening, but something didn't sit right with him. Something about it seemed like it was taking longer than it should. He shook his head, looking around the room. The boy didn't have many, if any other toys about his room, from what he could see. It was small and kept clean, with a box against the wall. Was he the boy's first toy?

Unsteadily getting to his feet, he stood up, looking behind him. That's right, William had an old teddy bear he also slept with, though right now it was somewhat pinned between the bed and the wall. Its beady, plastic eyes blinked from behind brown fur and waved a helpless, silent paw. Woody cringed, pulling a nervous look as he waved back. The bear didn't seem to be distressed or anything, and simply nodded, a small threaded smile appearing on its face. He turned back to the room, slipping off of the comforter and curiously stepping around the boy's bedroom floor. Although he didn't have any solid memories of his "life" as a cowboy, and although he knew he was a toy, _seeing _the oversized world around him gave him a thin shiver of excitement, almost fear.

It made him feel alive. And he was. The more he wandered around, the clearer he could hear his own footsteps, wood tapping against wood. His own breathing. Birds outside the window. The world came to life right along with his senses, and soon, he was genuinely smiling.

William didn't have many actual toys around his room. He had Tinkertoys and Silly Putty and a Cootie game. While the Cooties were alive, none of them were able to talk, from what he could tell. Lincoln Logs, Jacks, and Pick-Up-Stix, plenty of games, but aside from his bed mate, the bear, there didn't seem to be much of anyone.

"Will's a nice boy," came a voice that made Woody nearly jump out of his fabric. "He's been good to me from day one, and I'm sure it'll be no different for you." The cowboy turned to see the bear smiling at him, standing at the edge of the bed. The bear jumped down and walked over. "The name's Benjamin Bear, but when Will got me, all he could say was Benji. You've got a name, too, right?"

Woody's head was swimming a bit from the sudden social contact. He blinked a few times, examining the bear. Something about Benji unsettled him, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He closed his mouth again, considering his next actions.

"Can't you speak?" Benji asked, looking concerned. "What about your string?" Woody blinked, reaching for his back. His arms easily bent and his fingers tightened around the plastic loop. Although it was connected to him, he couldn't feel the loop as though it were part of his body. Only the movement of the string seemed to do anything, and it was a new feeling, one he wasn't sure he was comfortable with. He shook his head nervously. The bear chuckled. "It's alright, moving parts are kind of like that sometimes. You just gotta get used to it." Woody considered this, and closed his eyes, pulling the loop at arm's length. The feeling of the cord was still so new twisting inside of him, it made his fingertips tingle.

_"Somebody's poisoned the water hole!"_ the voice box within him said. Benji looked impressed, and encouraged him to do it again. _"This town ain't big enough for the two of us!"_ Woody blinked, eyes suddenly wide, and Benji went from impressed to incredulous. Suddenly afraid of offending the bear, Woody tugged again. _"I didn't mean that! This stuff's pre-recorded!"_ There was a short silence where both looked even more surprised, then Benji threw his head back and laughed heartily at the cowboy.

"Now we just gotta figure out how to get you to say stuff without pulling the string," he said, patting his shoulder and putting Woody at ease.

It wasn't too long before Woody felt out what he had to do in order to speak, and then he just couldn't stop. He went on and on about his newfound senses, the feeling of being alive, everything he'd felt up to this point. Benji nodded, curious about it himself.

"I mean, is it _normal_ for it to take as long as I did?" Woody finally asked as they sat together on the bed, Benji heading back into his spot between the bed and the wall.

"Everyone's different," Benji explained, grunting as he pulled himself down with some effort. "I haven't seen many awakenings, myself, let alone with someone who could speak, but I've seen them just pop awake, fully functional, and I've seen them be sluggish, too. Doesn't make them any better or worse in the long run." Woody nodded, absorbing all the information he could. He wanted to know everything the bear knew, and more.

"Maybe I'm thinking too far into it," Woody said, "but how _is _all this even possible?"

"Well, that's pretty simple, you see..." Benji began, but was cut off by the sound of the front door opening and closing. "He's back from school. Get into position and we'll talk later." The bear moved back into a solid state and Woody stared at him in mild confusion, looking up at the door and stepping into his spot before feeling something simply click inside of him and he slipped into his instinctive toy mode. His eyes flipped open, his mouth pulled back into its carved, friendly smile, and he fell limp onto the duvet.

William came into the bedroom a few minutes later, picking up Woody and smiling, hugging him tightly. Another spark ran through Woody's being, and he felt a strange, new emotion as the boy carried him off, quietly going on an adventure in the back garden, even if by himself. There was an excited fluttering within Woody's chest, and he felt the thrill of being alive once again that he hadn't quite felt before, this time through the love and imagination of a child.

_**Author's Note: Figured I'd move this down here...**_

_**I had a silly idea a while back to make up my own ideas on Woody's past. Mostly just practising my writing, but also building needless headcanon and having fun with the whole "the toys are alive!" deal. I've considered time and time again about dates for when this stuff is happening, but it's not explicitly stated here. I assume the beginning is in the early to mid 60's, and William's father and uncle, Frank and Jim respectively, had watched the show during its initial run in the late 40's (Jim just never grew out of it). I figured, if Andy's dad owned Woody, but Woody didn't know about Woody's Roundup, it would have to be after the show was cancelled, possibly- not EVERYONE wanted space toys, surely. People also seem to forget that Woody had been Andy's favourite since Kindergarten, rather than from birth. I always found it kind of weird to give a newborn baby a toy like Woody.**_

_**What of the other Woody's Roundup toys Jim owned? Did they die in the fire? WILL WE EVER FIND OUT? Sounds like a separate fic in the making...**_


	2. Chapter 2

Woody and Benji became friends easily, playing games during the mornings with a couple of other toys, one of which tended to follow him around like a lost puppy, which in its own right seemed to make enough sense, as he was a modeled after a dog. Woody was polite but didn't get too close to him right away, finding the dachshund's advances more annoying than friendly. After he made use of his Slinky torso on more than one occasion, however, Woody did cave, and they spent some mornings playing checkers together.

William would be home during the afternoons after school, and then cuddle up with Woody and Benji in the evenings to sleep with. The bear said that Will used to play with him more often, but he didn't mind Woody's presence in the least. "As long as I'm there when Will needs me, that's all that matters," he had said sagely, and Woody adopted this mindset easily. "Besides, I've been dying for someone who'll hold a conversation with me; Slink was a toy of few words until you came," he'd added, which gained a chuckle from the cowboy.

Will's family was not exactly wealthy, so he did not have many toys. He was more interested in strategy games and knowledge, and although his toys weren't played with often, they all had their moments to shine; Will had an imagination on him when he had the chance to use it. However, the moments between playtime spread further and further apart as William grew up all too quickly, but this didn't bother either toy, because they would always be there for him.

When William was eighteen, he was packing up to move into his own place. Woody and Benji were the only toys he had left, sitting on a shelf near his bed. Having packed the majority of his belongings, William took a passing glance at the shelf. The boy, now a man, didn't want to admit it, but he still loved them, in a disconnected sort of way. He'd had Benji since he was a baby, and Woody, well, that was a gift from his uncle, whom he loved dearly... not that he could remember him now. William watched the shelf, and Woody almost wasn't sure if he was considering packing them or throwing them out. Will left without them, however, and Benji reassured that he would be back and wouldn't simply toss them aside, else both of them would have been long gone by now.

"William might have kids of his own, someday," Benji had said, "and then we'll get to bring joy to someone else."

"I dunno, Ben," Woody said, "we're already old toys, and..."

"Don't worry about it," the bear interrupted, patting Woody on the back and smiling. "You're still in top condition, and y'know what? Even if we get sent out, if I know William, he'll have us donated before we get sent to the trash. This is what we have to expect, being immortal compared to our owners."

Woody considered Benji's wisdom, nodding and leaning back against the wall. He didn't like being shelved, but he was looking forward to seeing William again.

They stayed on that shelf for nearly ten years before William showed up in that room again for more than a few minutes. Frank Davis had passed away suddenly, and William had come to take some things his father had left for him, and most of it was left in a box on a small desk that had been placed there. William took the box, then looked back at the shelf. After a moment of consideration, he took both toys off the shelf and dropped them into the box.

"See?" Benji said as he nudged Woody, "what did I tell you?"

"Okay, you were right, he does still want us," Woody chuckled, trying to play it off as if he knew it all along. At William's house, both toys were given a brush-off and a careful surface wash to remove that ten year's worth of dust. Once the man was certain Woody was dry, he gave an experimental draw of his string.

_"Reach for the sky!" _the cowboy's internal voice box demanded, as loud and clear as ever, and William smiled with some satisfaction. Inside, Woody beamed, happy to still make William smile after all these years. William walked around the living room, sitting in front of the coffee table and pulled over an old metal box, kissed with rust around the edges. There was little inside; some papers and an amethyst crystal. William took one last look at the cowboy before setting him in the box, and he closed the lid.

Woody gasped to life, confused and scared as he laid there in the dark, unable to sit up. The box lurched and bounced for a good few minutes before it all stopped, and he heard retreating footsteps. He panicked, fighting the urge to pound on the box and cry out for help, and eventually he did, possibly more than once, until he was completely exhausted. He cried tearlessly, helplessly as he curled into a fetal position. Eventually, however, he remembered the look in William's eyes, a warm and loving look. Knowing he wasn't in the trash, he tried to keep his mind together. The attic, he must be in the attic. It's just another place of storage where, in theory, dust won't get to him again. Yeah, that must be it.

But what about Benji?

Woody had no idea how long he'd been in that box, or how often he'd heard people come up and move boxes around when he felt it move again. He heard the latch flip open and he slipped into toy mode as the lid opened up. William's face was the first thing that came into view. He carefully pulled Woody from the box, his hand grasping him by the torso as he'd always done before, looking him over. Giving him a quick brush-off, he began to walk down the hall.

"Andy?" William called. A small boy, barely five, looked out from behind one of the hallway doors.

"Hi, dad," Andy smiled, and William knelt before the boy.

"Andy, I have something special for you." He held up the doll. "This is Woody. My father gave him to me when I was a little bit bigger than you, but I think you're old enough to take care of him." The little boy reached out, taking the doll into his little hands. Seeing the plastic ring on his back, he smiled, and pulled it instantly.

_"Somebody's poisoned the waterhole!"_

"Cool!" Andy beamed. "Thanks, dad," he added, hugging his father.

"You're welcome, son."

_Son._ Andy was William's son. He was being kept in storage in case he had a kid. Or for when Andy was old enough, whichever. Whatever, Woody didn't care; he was free again. Even in the off-chance that he'd be shelved for the rest of the day, all that mattered was that he wasn't in that box anymore.

When Andy left for lunch, Woody had been dropped onto the bed, and he waited until all was silent before blinking and sitting upright. He looked around the room. The wallpaper was pale blue with little clouds, and some of his toys were scattered about the floor. There was no sign of the bear. Climbing down the duvet, he heard the other toys scuffling as they came to life to see the newcomer.

"Well, golly bob-howdy!" a gravelly voice came from behind him, and he jumped around to see a short, wooden dachshund who seemed just as surprised as he was. Upon second glance, Woody realized that his front and and his back end were connected with a Slinky. Familiarity dawned on his face and he couldn't help but grin.

"Slink! Boy, am I glad to see you!" he gave the dog a friendly ruffle around his ears. What a relief; a friendly face in otherwise unknown territory.

"Who's this supposed to be, the Lone Ranger?" came a second voice with a hint of sarcasm. Woody glanced over his shoulder to see a Mr. Potato Head, looking him over incredulously. Woody was about to speak when Slink stepped around him with a big smile.

"This here's Woody, Potato Head!" he beamed. "He was onna my best friends when Andy's dad was a kid!" Ignoring Potato Head's grunt, he wandered around Woody in awe. "You ain't dusty or nothin'!"

"Will had me in a metal box in the attic," Woody said plainly, trying not to look too upset over it. "So what about you? I haven't seen you since that last yard sale!"

"Yeah, well," Slink chuckled then looked slightly guilty, "he snuck me into the attic, too. Too bad I didn't know you'd been locked in there with me, else I'd've let you out."

_"Oh, now he tells me," _Woody thought, but let it go. "Well, I'm out now, so I'm happy."

Amongst his audience that were now talking amongst themselves, he noted a large, bright green, plastic dinosaur, some little green soldiers, an Etch-A-Sketch, and a few other toys he recognized vaguely, although not from Will's room. There was a rustling in the closet before the door opened just a crack, and the other toys froze before turning to look. A roughed up teddy bear limped out of the closet, staring widely at Woody. A small smile crawled across his stitched face. He looked as though he'd been dragged around, drooled on, and generally well played with by a small child. Woody's eyes widened and he found himself shaking a little; no way he could forget that bear.

"Benji!" he lept forward and hugged the bear, who simply hugged him back. "You're still here!"

"'Course I am," Benji chuckled, pushing Woody back so he could look him over. "You've been in storage all this time... You look wonderful, cowboy; good as new." Woody rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. Benji turned to the rest of the toys. "Now look here, boys. Everything this toy knows, he's learned from me. He is honourable, intelligent, brave, and kind." If Woody had blood, he would have began to blush; he wondered where this was going. "Now that he's returned, I don't have to hide in the closet any longer. Next time Andy's mom cleans up under the bed, I will likely be thrown out or donated, and I have come to accept that fate. And so I step down from my position as the eldest toy, leaving all duties to you, sheriff," he turned to look back at Woody with a sad glint in his beady eyes. "Y'think you can do that for me, buddy?"

Woody was at a lost for words, feeling put on the spot. He sputtered unintelligably, trying to find something to say as he looked at all the toys watching expectantly, even if a few looked less than enthusiastic. Some looked hopeful; Benji apparently didn't leave the closet often.

"Well, I... but...uh... sure, of course," he finally managed, and Benji patted him on the back, leading him back to the bed.

"Good on you," Benji grinned, lifting the quilt. "Don't you worry about a thing; just remember what I taught you. Until Helen- that's Will's wife," the bear winked, "helps Andy clean up his room, I'll be here if you have any questions." He took one last look over Woody before he hugged him again, making Woody look sheepish and feel uncomfortable. "It was great seeing you again, Woody." With that, he crawled under the bed, disappearing under the duvet.

Woody glanced around the room, mouth open, still a bit shocked from what had just happened. The other toys watched curiously, as if awaiting an order. The familiar sound of feet clomping upstairs rang out and Woody's eyes snapped to the door.

"Andy's coming! Back to your places, everybody!" The toys frantically found where they'd been before as Woody climbed back onto the bed, clicking into toy mode and flopping over on his side.

**Author's Note: I almost forgot to add Slink. XD Oops. I hope I did alright...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Man, sorry this took so long! I completely lost where I was taking the story, and I'm still not sure how I'm going to tie this off. Here's the next part, anyway. Enjoy, and happy Halloween!

During most mornings that summer, Andy was off at day care while the toys had their fun amongst themselves. Although Andy didn't pay much attention to Woody, the toys easily took Benji's word, coming to him with questions about this and that, to help find missing parts or have batteries replaced. He also easily fell into his role as leader. It was a lot more complicated than when Will was young, and on his own it would have been stressful. However, he and Benji organized staff meetings so that everyone could keep up with current events in the house, and with the bear around, it lightened the load. After a while, it became easier for Woody to do things on his own, not that he wanted to. As long as Benji was around to help, he would gladly accept it.

Then, cleaning day came. He'd overheard Helen talking about it to Andy a week before, and he'd worked it into the next staff meeting to make sure everyone knew what to expect. They knew it would happen eventually, but Woody continually hoped that it wouldn't. No matter when it would have happened, it would have been too soon for him.

"Helen and Andy will be in here after he gets back from day care," Benji had said during the final hours, "then they'll clean his room together. I know most toys wouldn't want for this..." he trailed off, patting Woody's shoulder. "Don't be sad, cowboy. There's no need."

"But Benji, we're _immortal_, aren't we?" Woody protested. "If you get thrown out, your life won't just end, you'll spend eternity in a dump somewhere... won't you?" He could tell that the bear was wise well beyond William's room. His tiny black eyes wouldn't have seemed capable of holding the emotion they carried right then. Just how old was he, anyway?

"After all these years, I never did get to explain how we're alive," Benji replied, and Woody remembered asking that question the very morning he awoke. He'd been overwhelmed by so many other things, he'd simply forgotten to consider it again. It must have read on Woody's face, because Benji began to lead Woody away from the main part of the room. "We may just be stitches and stuffing, but we have _souls, _Woody. It comes from our owners. Our first owners. Sometimes even before then. Sitting on a shelf in a shop, being played with while still in the box can be enough. They created us, they programmed us, and they gave us the spark of life. It doesn't have to be children, either... so long as they have an imagination.

"Not on purpose, mind. They made us to be played with, to comfort, and most importantly, to be lifeless. If they knew that there was magic in their sewing kits, it would lead to chaos. Think about it. Cheap war machines! Disposable soldiers! There's a reason we have to freeze in front of humans, boy, but while we awaken with that fear and knowledge, we blindly following it without truly understanding _why_. And trust me, we don't even know the half of it." Woody walked alongside Benji outside of Andy's room, across the landing, taking in the wise bear's words. They'd reached the top of the staircase by the end of Benji's speech, and he was left rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down into the living room.

"I hadn't really thought of it that way," Woody muttered before turning back to Benji. "So _why _are you giving up this life for one in the trash? Andy seems good with his toys, just like Will was."

"Yes," Benji nodded, rubbing his muzzle. "Even in pieces, we can survive, lest our parts are completely destroyed. That may happen to all of us eventually." Woody shuddered, trying not to imagine the ways. There was a short silence before the bear continued. "I want an _adventure._ A real one. I've spent my years sitting on a shelf, in a box, in the closet. Never really able to escape. Even if I have to swim in filth, lose my eye or an arm, pop a seam... I want to see the world! I'm tired of watching children grow up and having adventures of their own. But it has to be legit. If I get thrown out, they won't miss me."

"But what if they _don't_ throw you out?" Woody mused. "Maybe you're a collector's item! Besides, you said Will _wouldn't _throw us out."

"I'm nearly falling apart; I'm not worth anything," the bear reassured with a smile as they started back towards Andy's room. "Also, William won't be home until eight. Helen won't know the difference."

Woody stayed silent for the rest of the walk, unable to change the bear's mind. The other toys were quieter than usual, and he wondered if they'd heard any of what had been said. When they reached Andy's bed, Benji patted Woody's shoulder before taking one last look at the clock on the dresser.

"They should be pulling in any minute now," Benji said, his voice faltering a bit. "It's been nice knowing you, cowboy. Maybe our paths will cross again someday."

"Maybe," Woody said, patting him back. "I'm really gonna miss your help around Andy's room, y'know. I'm only barely getting the hang of things." Benji gave him one last look, blinking his beaded eyes and holding out his paw. Woody looked at it as if he wasn't sure what it was.

"So long as I'm here, you'll _always_ be getting the hang of things. It's only proper that I step off and let you shine to your full potential. Goodbye, Woody." After a long, uncomfortable pause, Woody took his paw in his wooden hands, shaking it firmly.

"Goodbye, Benjamin Bear."

With that, Benji quickly disappeared under the duvet, leaving Woody alone and staring at the blanket as if in shock. His face fell and he turned to the rest of the room, glancing up at the window where Andy's new piggy bank sat. The bank, Hamm, was watching out the window; he seemed to enjoy surveillance. The timing seemed just right, as the bank turned to the rest of the room.

"Andy and his mom at ten o'clock!" the bank shouted, looking back out the window. Everyone began to panic and scatter, including Woody.

"O-okay, okay guys, uh..." he started, then shook his head, raising his voice. "Remember what we rehearsed! Get back into positions, and make sure all your parts are with you!" Once the majority of the floor was cleaned up, Woody made his way back onto the dresser where Andy had been keeping him, getting a good look at the room. A couple of toys shivered in fear, while others looked around nervously, and some seemed confident. The front door opened and slammed shut, and footsteps could be heard running up the stairs. He slipped into toy mode, flopping onto his side as Andy burst in with his backpack and his mother. She was carrying a trash bag or two.

Andy dropped his backpack on the bed. He was talking excitedly about the things he'd done in day care, possibly _still,_ he seemed the chatty sort. Mostly arts and crafts but plenty of playtime as well. He talked about the other toys there as they dumped random old things into the bag. Woody inwardly shuddered; day care seemed like fun for Andy, but it sounded like a dark and horrible place for toys.

From the angle he was at, he couldn't see the bed very well, but he assumed she was reaching under it. He couldn't risk nudging closer to the edge to see, but his fears were confirmed when Helen stood upright and looked over an old stuffed bear.

"What about this, Andy?" she asked, holding the plush toy out to him. "Yes or no? It was under your bed." Andy gave a confused glance toward the bear, as if he wasn't sure it was even his. After a few seconds of careful considering, the five-year-old looked at his mom.

"Okay," he said, nodding, and they dropped Benji into one of the bags. With that done, Woody stopped paying attention, mourning the loss of his first friend. Not many other toys were taken away, but it didn't seem to matter.

Once Andy and Helen had left the room, Woody jumped up and headed toward the window, where he could see the two were setting up tables. He and Hamm watched as toys and old furnature, books, knick-knacks, and other miscellaneous items were laid out. After a while of watching people come and go, a familiar car pulled up. Woody frowned.

"That's Will," he noticed, watching his old owner climb out of the car and hug his wife. "He's home early."

It wasn't long at all before William was taking part and helping out, until he saw Benji. He picked up the bear and examined it, then quietly took it over to his car. Setting Benji in the back window, Woody saw him smile.

Later that evening after Andy had gone to sleep, he slipped out of the room to eavesdrop on William and Helen. They were discussing Benji.

"It was my first toy, and I'm surprised it's still in one piece," Will said. "I don't think I'm ready to give it up; it really means a lot to me. So it's in my back window, now."

"I'm glad you saw it, then," Helen's smile could be heard in her voice. "I didn't recognize it."

When Woody came back into the room, he heard a light thump on the dresser. It was Hamm, motioning for him to come up. Climbing to the window, he gave the bank an expectant look.

"Just thought you should know, the bear's gone missing," Hamm said, tilting his head toward the window. Peeking through the curtains, Woody narrowed his eyes to see better in the dark. Where they had seen Benji sitting earlier, the spot was now empty.

"He said he wanted adventure," Woody grunted, closing the curtains. "Well, I just hope he's found it."


End file.
